Gaal: Mercury's triumph
by Sister-Puce
Summary: A story about Gaal the vagabond and an OC who fall for each other. NOT FLUFF. Not a Mary sue. Simply a romance, at it's heart. Later chapters rated T and perhaps M. Please R&R. :D MUCH editing to do because I fully intend to add Danziger, Adair and the gang to some chapters.
1. First encounter

**Disclaimer**: I do not intend any copy right infringement of anything involved with "Earth 2" or the characters within. I Don't claim to own any rights to it at all. Don't sue me.

**Rating for this chapter**: K+

**Author**: SisterPuce. (A.K.A sex-and-the-common-cold)

**Characters in this chapter**: Gaal and OC.

**Author's note**: This story begins before the "downfall" of Gaal and may continue past the said "downfall", in which case, Gaal will -of course- survive and resume his delightful rain of terror upon the hapless pioneers.

I wrote it at least 4 years ago, at a time when I was truly happy and is in present tense. It has been re-written over and over again.

I have a bit of a bizarre way of writing but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I had this story uploaded to before, but I took it down because I wasn't confidant in it. Actually, I'm still not but I put a lot of work into it and I loved writing the what I have.

Before you read on, let me offer this one small fact: This is not a Mary Sue.

The reason for that being that the OC named Caprice is not perfect at all. She is naive, unsociable and rather daft. At times, even unsettling. Her body far from desirable in almost any sense.

She is a main character in my fic, though.

Even though the show's main characters are not mentioned a lot in the first few chapters, I will write them in, later should I choose to write more.

I wrote this because I love Earth 2. I love it's mythology, it's creatures and settings. And Gaal is one of the best characters in the history of T.V.

Please, read on. Tell me your thoughts on it, if you will. Thank you and thank you and thank you, again.

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**Chapter 1**

**First encounter**

**C**aprice is not the kind of woman who keeps a log. Most of her thoughts are kept locked away in her head. None of the others talk to her. Why give them the key?

It is not by pure coincidence that the vagabond the Danziger and Adiar children found is in a similar predicament.

Gaal, as he calls himself, has told everyone that he was an astronaut on a mission from pontel 7 and that his shuttle crashed on this planet 15 years prior to their arrival but very few believe his story.

Caprice has no opinion of the man to speak of because she has never met him.

All she has been doing for the past week is scavenging for food to keep back; wasting time and ignoring the others as they, in turn, ignore her.

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She's been searching past dusk, cursing and stumbling periodically as she makes her way back to camp with a backpack slung over her shoulder, containing various roots and grasses.

She spots a firelight through the darkness.

Reluctantly, Caprice sneaks up toward it on her haunches and hides behind some rocks. Who could it be, so far from camp at this hour? Probably the drifter.

And that's exactly who it is, roasting something of indeterminable species over a spit.

He feels her presence and surveys his surroundings, calling in a horse whisper "Who's there?"

She doesn't answer.

Gaal rises, fingers light on the hilt of the dagger at his belt; casting aside his cloak so it doesn't breeze through the flames.

"I know you're there." Gaal says ominously. Is he expecting someone?

Caprice slowly stands to her feet, wordlessly glaring. Her eyes betray her thoughts.

"I don't know you..." He says, absent-minded through gritted teeth. She doesn't offer her name, noting his frog-like eyes flicker over her body.

"Who are you, girl?" He asks, a threatening hiss beneath his voice. Caprice is not intimidated.

He tries again, collecting himself. "Come here. Let me see you."

She spots his fingers relax. His arm fall to his side and she knows that he's armed.

Gaal sits once more. There is a chance that if she tells her people of this encounter and the details of that he was planning to keep this catch all to himself...well, that might complicate things.

"Won't you join me?"

She cautiously advances, not taking her sight from him as a smile warms his face.

"There we are." He approves. "Take a seat."

She sits on the dirt like Gaal, who attempts to make conversation. "It's not often that I snag something. As you can imagine, I'm not as deft as I used to be."

Caprice merely scratched at the ground with a twig.

He says "You don't trust me either, do you? It hasn't been easy making friends. You could say I'm a little rusty."

"Well, we're in the same boat, then" She replied. He must have liked that because his grin grows twice fold.

He thoughtfully gazes out to the desert then offers his hand to Caprice.

"Name's Gaal. Sure you know."

"Caprice." She shakes his hand with a ghost of a smile.

"How quaint!" He chortles. Unusual quaint or delightful quaint, she's not sure which he meant.

Gaal continues "Now, I bet you're thinking that it would be proper of me to share my dinner with the others."

"No."

"No?" He tisks and raises a brow. She explains to him that it wouldn't be enough to go around even if he were to bring it back to camp.

Gaal waits a beat before saying "...And?"

She chokes a bit. And what? "AND they'd probably all start bickering over it."

Gaal settles down a bit, feeling more comfortable in present company and sucks his lower lip. "I think you and I will get along together just fine."

Whatever is on the spit, it smells delicious. She hasn't eaten in over a day in order to save rations.

He wipes his palms on his thighs and turns the carcass over, innocently muttering "I bet you're as hungry as I am. I think there's enough of this fellow to split between the two of us."

Caprice looks at the creature that's glistening and sizzling with fat. "NO. I don't need any." She tells him hastily and makes to stand up.

Gaal's voice raises slightly. "And how long has it been since you last ate?"

She thinks about the paltry findings in her backpack and doesn't answer.

Gaal pouts at her mischievously and brings his voice down to an irresistible croon. "It's not easy to find anything in this wasteland. I've been here long enough, surely, to have experienced what scant hospitality this planet has to offer." He pauses to wrench a canteen out from a nearby duffel bag. "...And through...a considerable amount of trail and error. You might well be surprised to find out what I have discovered is actually edible."

While looking at the ground, Caprice hears that his voice has smiled.

"...But not without indigestion."


	2. Leniency

**Characters in this chapter**: Gaal and OC. Stay with me, here.

**Author's note**: The name Caprice in this story is pronounced "Cap-price" not "Ca-preece." Sorry 'bout that.

And the stiletto is the knife, not the shoe, lol.

**Chapter rating**: K+

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**Chapter 2**

**Leniency**

**G**aal takes more than his fair share of water from the community tank (But not so much as to be noticed.)

Caprice sees it all.

He stops dead in his tracks, spigot lever between his finger. Water continues to trickle from the reservoir into his plastic jug.

Caprice makes the first move by sealing her lips with a pantomime zipper as she walks away, catching a glimpse of his humongous teeth; bared in a beguiling grin.

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The next morning, Caprice sits beneath her lean-to tent, nursing patches of sunburn on her arms and shoulders. She doesn't have anything to put on them and she isn't about to bother that medic.

She hears foot steps approaching but doesn't look to see who they belong to. No one has spoken to her all morning. Not so much as a hello.

"Hello." Greets Gaal, His animal skin bound legs just visible out of the corner of her eye.

His knee is almost touching the back of her head. Now, of course she knew somebody had gotten _THAT_ close.

She leans back to peer up his tunic and past that, she's met with his down turned face; soft and distracted.

Gaal kneels beside her, as close as can be. His thigh brushing her sunburn.

He holds out his fist to her. Confused, Caprice opens her palm to accept what he's giving her, feeling the weight of a cold, domed object drop into it with a thud.

An egg. It's unmottled and lined indentations scrawl up from it's fat bottom.

Gaal was reluctant to give it up when he found it a sigh past sun up but ultimately decided that it should go to the lady who kept his secret.

"A pretty thanks for not peaching."

"I..." She begins to whisper in appreciation.

He cannot help but smile. Then he spies her blistered shoulder and utters a sympathetic -melodramatic- gasp.

"That's a nasty burn, darling." He casually blows cool air on it.

Discretely, she forms goosebumps.

Gaal clucks his tongue. "I'll fetch you something for that but it may take a while."

"Thank you, but-" She begins timidly but he stops her in his effort to get back up and gazes at her with the most languid of smiles.

"Think nothing of it, petal." After he says this, he playfully mocks an uppercut to her jaw.

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She didn't see him all day and by nightfall, she had given up.

Accidently, Caprice fell asleep with her lean-to entrance left open. And Gaal has crept in.

He quietly secures the tent-like flap behind him, plunging them both into darkness.

Her eyes fly open, her hand takes the stiletto hidden beneath her pillow after catching a glimpse of his teeth gleaming.

"It is I, Caprice!" He tells her, obviously excited.

She relaxes her grip only a little.

"I've brought you something for your burns." He whispers and kneels next to her with a small, wooden bowl.

"Ease up, my petal." Gaal chuckles at her while scooping a dollop of red gel out of the bowl. "...Let me put this on you and I'll be off."

"No, no. I can do it." She insists but Gaal rolls his eyes and licks a bit of the gel off of his hand, proving to her that it's safe but that's not why she was protesting.

Caprice gathers her blankets up around her.

"No hard feelings. I understand your precaution." His voice is reassuring but she still doesn't trust him.

"This may sting just a tad." He looks at the muslin dress that's loose about her shoulders and is kept up with small, plastic buckles and gestures for her to undo them. "Come, come."

"I can do it." She says, offended.

He calmly replies "Why, are you afraid of the wild man?"

She shakes her head with a potently discouraging look in her eyes. Gaal remains undeterred, poking at one of the buckles impatiently.

Finally, she unsnaps it and pulls her neckline down to expose her arm against her better judgement.

"There's a girl." He chimes.

She feels terribly gullible. It does sting, at first but soon feels comfortably cool as he massages it into her skin.

"I'm sorry to say..." He softly speaks "...That it won't alleviate the pain. It'll only heal. I used to get awful sunburns when I was first...marooned. But my skin has grown accustom to the climate. You, pet, are as white as milk..." Gaal observes, nearly astonished by the difference in their skin tones.

"How extraodinary..." Gaal blinks and clears his throat, caught off guard.

Caprice can hear that his breathing has become heavier.

"Now..." He starts "Let me just get the other one and I'll go, as promised."

When he has finished, he says "There." and abruptly exits, leaving Caprice to sit, alone; flushed and angry with him and herself.


	3. A favor done, a favor returned

**Characters in this chapter**: Just Gaal and OC. Stick in there, folks.

**Chapter rating**: T for suggestive literary sexuality.

**Author's note**: The term "moth's kiss" and "Bee's kiss" mean soft kiss and to kiss with the tongue.

Since Gaal has read some older books, I though that they are terms that he could use.

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**Chapter 3**

**A favor done, a favor returned**

**C**aprice rises but definitely does not shine this morning with nothing to do, as usual.

Her breakfast is the egg that she had hidden in a cooler bag. It tasted sulphuric, yes but unlike the eggs that she's eaten before, it is very thick and of a nutty flavour. Velvety, yet unappealing.

She decides to spend a good part of the day walking in the woods. With any luck, she'll find some kind of food source.

Naturally, she wanders too close to the straggler's dwelling, unaware that he has been watching her.

Standing very still, she swears that she can feel a pair eyes upon her.

Gaal approaches her brazenly, his teeth clinched.

Caprice whirls about to meet those arresting eyes that blink in a delayed, irregular fashion. She loses her senses for a moment, dumb-struck in his stare.

He doesn't want to hurt her, only warn her off but she doesn't know that.

Letting the backpack slip from her arm, Caprice prepares to defend herself with the stiletto enclosed. Her heart is pounding. She's seen a look like that before. It isn't violence and it isn't insanity but it's close.

Gaal remains silent and takes long breaths, licking his lips and catching his tongue between his teeth.

"Stay there." she falters a bit.

"Why?" he sweetly replies. What an enigma he must be to have a sound so dulcet and sinuous come from the same body that held that glare. A glare that can render her into a kind of sleepwalk. Asleep to all others but him.

Suddenly, his mood changes as he almost regretfully asks "Did I frighten you?"

"NO." She automatically answers.

He cocks his head and takes a few steps closer. "Do you swear? because I seem to recognize fear in the widening of your eyes." His voice is mellifluous as he lowers his face so that he may look at her from below his brow.

"I'm not scared of you." She states.

Gaal takes a few more steps. "Then I am pleased." He laughs and some of the tension is lifted.

Caprice looks to the ground, hearing him purr "What is it, Caprice?"

"I wanted to give you something in return for your gift." Her voice is little more than a dirge although she is lying.

"What's this?" Gaal says, flattered. "I expect nothing in return, my dear." Gaal grasps her fore arm gingerly and her stomach lurches. Despite her circumspection, she can't help but find him attractive.

"However, I do have one, small request...and I dare not push my luck, but..." He says, full of pluck and insolence.

She asks "But what?" dubiously. She can smell his musty sweat, his breath.

"...Could I have...just one kiss?" He asks with the smokiest of tones.

"What if I said _no_?" She poses him a question.

He shrugs with a smile. "Then I would walk away."

"And if I said _yes_?"

He finds her idiosyncrasies amusing. "Then...We would kiss."

Caprice blinks but she doesn't make a move. Just looks at him twice, incedulously.

"A moth's kiss?" It's almost as if he's begging. His smile has faded. Sweat seeps from his hair-line. His bee-stung lips hang open and seductive.

"Only on one condition." she answers shortly.

"Yes?"

"_I _have to kiss_ you_."

Gaal's face is eclipsed in a grand grin. Even the way that his lips pull back from his silky teeth -with all the grace that she is not even capable of- is as sexual as making love. As sexual as the act itself.

Caprice leans in sluggishly and tries not to think of her susceptible mannerisms.

His eyes close serenely before she placed the lightest kiss upon his lips.

When she looks at him, his expression is taciturn and distant. But as soon as she has seen it, He becomes feral and crushes her body to his own; forcing the breath from her lungs and bruising her back with his grip. She struggles but doesn't stop him from kissing her frantically, painfully.

It's been so long since Gaal has been this close to a woman. Caprice knows now -far too late- that she has given her key away to him. What he does with it may not be intirely up to her.

He smothers her lips with a desperate moan. His breath rushes out of her nose and she can feel something firm assault her pubis. It doesn't take much imagination to guess what it is.

Caprice gasps and steals the wind from his mouth.

Gaal takes a moment to look at her. His eyes are unfathomably hungry, infinitely sensual. His impregnated lips are flush and shine.

She feels exhilarated and stupid in the moment before he gives her a bee's kiss and her mind becomes drunk.

His sour tongue meticulously explores every corner and crevice of her mouth.

Suddenly, he pulls away and tells her "Now, we are lovers."

Caprice just stares, red-cheeked and overwhelmed.

Gaal mutters thoughtfully "But I think you are not ready."

"What are you talking about?" Caprice asks defensively.

He looks at her as if she should already know. "Simply, that we must gain each other's loyalty before we become mates." as he explained coolly, she became angry.

"But I don't know you well enough! "

He smiles again, exquisitely before giving her a smooth kiss and stating "Alas, we've much more to earn before we are to bed."

Her mind draws a blank.

Gaal embraces her, wrapping her with his stocky arms. She can smell his hair. Salty. Dusty.

"I will see you tonight by the mouth of that cave, yonder..." He points to it, she looks in that direction. "...We must meet."

Gaal backs up a tad and takes her hands in his, lifting them to kiss before walking off into the treeline.

Caprice watches after him, drawing blood from the wound that she has started in her mouth.


	4. bound

**Characters mentioned in this chapter**: Julie, Alonzo, Morgan and Bess (Just mentioned, I'm sorry. I plan to write the main character in later chapters if I write them.) Gaal and OC.

**Chapter rating**: T for blood.

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**Chapter 4**

**N**ight finally falls.

It seems like it's taken forever for Caprice, watching everyone groggily trod off to their tents. Bess and Morgan have a light on in theirs but besides the watchmen and Alonzo, they're all asleep.

Prime time to take flight.

It'll be a cinch. Just slink around a couple of tents, delve into the forest and circle around the camp from a distance until she reaches the right direction.

She recalls the vagrant's words. "We've much more to earn before we are to bed."

She doesn't know enough about this man. Who knows what he's done? Why is she going through with this? Why does he want her and why should she care?

Caprice has no one to care for and no place to go even if she does get off of this planet, so why should shouldn't she pursue this relationship

She's determined to find out what he has in store for her.

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When she reaches her destination -approximately 15 minutes from the encampment- Gaal is nowhere to be seen. She decides to wait for him but as she searches for a reasonably critter-free place to sit, he waddles up behind her, holding a flashlight that he had pilfered. He solemnly says her name.

She heard his shuffling foot steps and saw the torchlight first.

It is absolutely pitch in the cave past him and it's opening is so low, he has to stoop to clear it.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to come. Are you alone?"

She answers "Yeah." Caprice's mood is fragile.

Taking her hand, he says "Come, my love. Let's get you in."

They walk hand-in-hand down the dark cavern in silence. He leads her to a narrow fissure in the wall that has been covered by a pelt. The faint glow of a light comes through from the other side.

Pulling the skin back, Gaal ushers her in. The air becomes distinctly earthy in this cramped, congested room. Carbo boxes packed with dozens of media chips line the walls. A solar-powered lamp sits on a low table.

Gaal pushes along to the next cavern and doesn't ask her to follow but she does. It's more like a hallway than a cavern. Various animal bones clutter the ground and the smell has become stagnant.

A dirt floor is beneath their feet. Gaal must have brought it in.

He pulls aside a red tarp and encourages her to "Go on", waving his flashlight.

The first thing she sees is another solar lamp with a blinding , blue bulb. It causes the moist, dripping walls to sparkle. Then she spots a shallow pool of water.

Gaal puts his palm to her back and gently pushes her to it. "Look."

Tiny salamander creatures float about in it.

They are of two colorations. Male and female, Caprice suspects. In fact, they are both sexes within themselves. Their eyes are luminescent pin pricks and they have no visible mouths. When they swim, membranous tissue flares out at their sides, evolving their once tapered shape into a billowing oval. If touched, they feel like wet satin but for their undersides, which stick with microscopic and painless barbs.

They freeze in the torchlight, drifting on the weak current; shining with with iridescence.

Caprice examines them in awe. The edges of the pool are lined with a translucent gel that piles up in little mounds and jiggles when droplets hit the surface.

"They don't taste very good..." Gaal states mournfully of the glassy salamanders. "...And the water tastes terrible, too but they're lovely to look at."

She feels his grasp on her shoulder and turns to him, finding his face is very serious.

"I musn't dally any longer. I need to discover if you will be able to find me trustworthy."

She has no idea that if she does not, he will kill her.

Gaal shows her the brand on his neck.

"What's that?"

"Proof of my falsehood." He admits. "I was never a part of pontel 7. Never an astronaut."

He watches to see if Caprice's expression changes. It does not, so he goes on. "...Always, I have been the flotsam, drifting to and fro. Port to port. Never finding a safe harbor..." Gaal stops himself short and gulps in an effort to push down the anger that's welling up from within. "...Suffice to say, I washed up here!" He laughed with a bitter smirk. Still, tears are visible in his eyes. "...It is true that I have been here for many years. That was no lie." His eyebrows are raised and Gaal is humorous again.

After a moment, he asks her tauntingly "Now...what will you do?"

Caprice just looks at him, perplexed. So he continues "Hm? Who will you tell first?"

"No one." She eventually answers, nearly deadpan. Gaal laughs again and his face brightens. "What an odd woman you are."

It's true that she doesn't want to tell the others. She feels no sense of unity with them and they have made no effort to make her feel welcome. But then, she hasn't really given them a chance to.

"Come here." Gaal says warmly as if he wants to hold her but when she complies, he takes out his dagger and cuts his thumb open.

At first, Caprice is bewildered but then he grabs her by the wrist and readies his blade.

"WAIT!" She exclaims but Gaal just smiles nonchalantly and sinks it into her own thumb, drawing a bright, red stream.

"Ah!" She hisses and jerks away, infuriated.

"Now..." Gaal quietly clucks. "Don't be cross."

Caprice gives him a look of indignation.

"We shall vow in blood...our fealty." He squeezes blood from his fresh wound.

Listening to him, she disregards her misgivings for a moment; allowing herself a small smile.

Gaal studies her, transfixed. Not being at all used to the company of his own species, he wonders if he has simply forgotten the reason why a person would react in such a circumstance.

He finds it hard to believe that he actually may be smitten with this girl.

As they press their thumbs together, her tells her with satisfaction "Now, we are bound."


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